Close to ten o’clock, Su Shimin and the others gradually emerged from their rooms.

It was strange, though, as his female companion did not appear, and Little Wang quietly informed Lu Liang of this situation.

He hadn’t slept all night and had noticed that even late into the night, the sounds coming from Su Shimin’s room were still continuous.

At the time, he thought perhaps the old man was still vigorous, but now it seemed more likely he was up to something else and ran into trouble.

After all, he was over seventy. Even if the stuff in the tube works, it doesn’t mean the tube itself is still useful.

You can see and touch it, but the heart is willing while the strength is lacking, just like eunuchs in ancient times.

This villa belongs to Lu Liang, and if something happened to someone, he couldn’t escape responsibility.

Noticing Lu Liang’s gaze, Su Shimin calmly said, "She left very early."

Lu Liang smiled and didn’t press further for details.

Five men and four women were dining in the restaurant, with a large TV placed in front of them.

With the sound of a whistle, the final match of the World Cup began.

Lu Liang yawned, scrolling through his phone out of boredom, as he wasn’t interested in soccer at all.

His first encounter with soccer was in high school, and he remembered clearly that the school’s football field was beautiful, like a decoration, with dedicated caretakers watering and mowing the grass, but it was always closed to the public, only used to show off to superiors.

Back then, he was naive and thought maintaining a field and not using it was wasteful. Thinking back now, the intent was precisely to waste — without projects, where would funding come from?

"What the hell, an own goal?"

Little Wang suddenly widened his eyes. Although he also didn’t like soccer, he couldn’t resist Old Wang’s enthusiasm for it.

Unable to resist during his childhood, he had learned a little from exposure to it and could understand a soccer match.

He looked at Lu Liang in disbelief: "Croatia scored an own goal, France is ahead."

He thought he needed to apologize to Lu Liang, even though the World Cup trophy was within reach and at least over 2 billion people worldwide were watching.

Yet capital can truly do whatever it wants. Otherwise, the first own goal cannot be explained.

Even if it looked unintentional, teammates touched the player’s head in comfort, this young player.

But Little Wang was already biased and was now convinced of foul play in this match.

"It’s only 18 minutes in, don’t celebrate too early."

Lu Liang glanced casually and continued looking at his phone.

The internet and his WeChat moments exploded.

"Damn, Liangzi is this powerful? Can he manipulate the World Cup?"

"I’ve already gone all in, as long as France wins, I’ll get the top-tier Tianshu tomorrow."

"An own goal in the eighteenth minute of the final, what a premium quality. Who dares say there’s no fixing in the World Cup now? Football worldwide is generally shady."

The 10 p.m. Beijing time was the most active time for netizens. Although the National Team wasn’t good, domestic fake fans led globally by far.

With France temporarily leading by one goal, deafening cheers erupted from BBQ stalls and pubs across the country.

The value of Lu Liang’s influence continued to rise.

Their joy didn’t last long.

Ten minutes later, the Checkerboard Army seized an opportunity and equalized the score.

Little Wang, who was watching the game immersively, couldn’t help but grab Lu Liang’s hand, only for Lu Liang to slap it away with disdain in his eyes: "What do you want?"

"I..." Little Wang smiled awkwardly, his eyes fixed on the screen, visibly tense.

"Lu, you’re not interested in football?"

A trace of doubt flashed in Su Shimin’s eyes.

He didn’t care about winning or losing, but football is the world’s number one sport, inevitably engrossing people.

But Lu Liang seemed to be merely accompanying them, indifferent to football or the outcome.

Lu Liang smiled and said, "If it weren’t for the blue team having more black players, I wouldn’t know which side is France and which is Croatia."

"..."

Everyone present suddenly felt at a loss for words, even Su Shimin smiled wryly, realizing he shouldn’t have asked that question.

Six minutes later, the Checkerboard Army accidentally handballed, and the referee awarded a penalty, putting France ahead again by one goal.

Lu Liang couldn’t understand, but listening to the commentary, a strange expression appeared on his face, just like Little Wang’s.

The first own goal, the second a handball penalty.

This time, it truly seemed inexplicable.

"A fix, a blatant fix."

"Liangzi is amazing, plus one."

"Brothers, I’m going to get rich."

"I already see 200,000 waving at me."

Online controversies and doubts were incessant, but they didn’t affect the match, which continued on.

Just then, Lu Liang received a call from Harris.

He said, "Sir, the loan has been recovered, along with the late fees."

Lu Liang was stunned, then suddenly laughed: "I’m at East Hampton Coast Manor No. 112; come over and tell me all about the process."

He checked the time; only 18 hours had passed since issuing the task, covering three companies, one even located outside of New York.

In such a short time, both principal and interest recovered.

Could he really be a true prodigy?

Ending the call, Lu Liang was about to go back to the living room when he bumped into Camila coming out.

Though they’d known each other for less than ten hours, the relationship felt like lovers in the heat of passion.

Camila naturally draped her long arms over Lu Liang’s shoulders, resting her cheek against his neck.

Looking at the golden sandy beach, the ocean merging with the sky: "Darling, the sea breeze here is so comfortable."

"Do you like it?" Accompanied by a beauty, Lu Liang also didn’t want to go back inside, so he embraced her in a rocking chair, enjoying the sea breeze.

"Of course I like it, this place is my dreamland." Camila’s legs were very long, and she was good at highlighting her strengths.

Resting in Lu Liang’s arms, her legs overlapped, showcasing elegant and smooth lines, comparable to the world’s finest supercar.

"Then, from now on, you’re the lady of the manor." Lu Liang laughed, leading Camila to the villa’s control room.

He gave Camila secondary access rights with the homeowner’s primary permissions; the secondary rights originally belonged to Emma, but now they were hers.

In addition to the right to use the house, she could use two sports cars and a sedan from the garage.

Camila covered her mouth in disbelief and hugged Lu Liang: "Darling, you’re so good to me."

"As long as you’re obedient, you can have anything you want." Lu Liang lifted her chin and said softly.

He didn’t come to New York often, and even if he did, he wouldn’t stay for long. With Emma gone, the house needed a new caretaker.

Less than ten hours of acquaintance didn’t matter; if Lu Liang didn’t give it, she couldn’t take it even if it were hers.

Camila nodded, suddenly leaned into Lu Liang’s ear, and nibbled on his earlobe: "Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do."

Lu Liang smiled, stroked her soft hair, and patted the back of her head: "Good girl."

"Woohoo~"

Nothing eventful happened; they left the control room, and upon returning to the living room, they heard Little Wang wailing.

The second half began, France scored another goal, leading by two, making the match lose suspense.

The final score was 4:2.

"When everyone thought after the Melo twins, it would be Neymar’s era, the nineteen-year-old Mbappe emerged out of the blue, proving himself in the most prestigious match in the soccer world, and crowned himself..."

The commentator offered congratulations to the new king ascending the throne.

Lu Liang smiled: "Did France win?"

Little Wang nodded frantically, his face showing uncontrollable excitement.

$365 million, 1.37 odds, resulting in $500.05 million.

Old Wang indeed wasn’t boasting; 100 million was just a small goal; 100 million dollars was the big target.

"Congratulations, Mr. Wang. The bonus will be accounted for in Nevada, and the Las Vegas tax will only be 10%. Including the principal, approximately $1.333 billion will be transferred to your original account within three working days."

Mr. Su Shimin smiled indifferently, not caring about the few billion losses, even proactively reducing the tax on unexpected earnings.

If it were a regular state, any unexpected gain over $500 would incur about a 25% tax deduction.

But Las Vegas is different, similar to Macau as a gambling city, where the tax rate can be reduced to as low as 10%.

"Thank you, Mr. Su Shimin." Little Wang squinted, hugging his black girl and kissing her fiercely.

Lu Liang chuckled and only saw Mr. Su Shimin walk over and say: "Lu, we should be leaving too."

He paused for a few seconds and added: "Say the word when you’re ready."

Mr. Su Shimin looked at Lu Liang, filled with apprehension.

He never believed in ghosts and deities.

Because if ghosts and deities truly existed, the sins he committed wouldn’t be purged even if he were thrown into the eighteen layers of hell.

But at this moment, he doubted and wavered.

Is there truly a god of wealth in the world?

If there is, then Lu Liang is his terrestrial form.

To this day, Mr. Su Shimin didn’t believe Little Wang dared to do this; there’s definitely Lu Liang’s shadow behind the scenes.

But he didn’t understand soccer at all.

Mr. Su Shimin feared, recalling the past few years, it seemed no one who opposed Lu Liang had met a good end.

Lu Liang nodded slightly: "Gentlemen, take care."

Once a few outsiders left, Little Wang suddenly turned into a suck-up, asking with sycophancy: "Will you keep your word?"

"What words?" Lu Liang was puzzled.

"If you won’t seize this splendid chance to show off, I surely will." Little Wang was displeased.

He didn’t have many hobbies; showing off was one of them, and now he couldn’t wait to reveal his identity.

"Go ahead, but someone has to believe it."

Lu Liang already had enough honors; he sincerely wanted to give Little Wang the chance to shine.

Yet the market wasn’t buying it; when France led by two goals, his name was already at the top of the domestic trending list.

Even if France won the championship and Mbappe was crowned, related World Cup news could only rank below him.

At this moment, if Little Wang stepped out to state his identity, it would only make people think he was clinging forcefully to the trend.

Little Wang seemed to realize this too, suddenly dropping his head: "Not doing it, going back home."

"Not coming to Detroit with me?"

"No way."

Little Wang was full of resentment and discontent: "Staying by your side, I’m nothing but transparent."